Making Noises

Behind the lens

or holding a pen,

my pain disappears,

it seems to end.

The focus required

for both to take flight

robs my illness of power

it seems to take flight.

Such creative endeavors

I forget I’m not

the girl without illness

the girl who’s fraught.

A sick chick no more

as I walk through that door

‘cuz a creative i.d.

has a hold of me.